


A Scene From The Past (where we look back and laugh)

by SinkingCanoe (CavalryofWoah)



Series: The Frat House AU no one wanted [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Grocery Shopping, Humor, Pidge's unreasonable love of peanut butter flavored things, Shiro and Pidge go shopping and it goes about as well as you'd expect, by which I mean chaos friends they cause chaos, legit just cute and pointless, the frat house AU no one wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:16:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9795881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalryofWoah/pseuds/SinkingCanoe
Summary: Pidge wasn’t allowed to go shopping by herself for two reasons: number one, she’d live off sandwiches and microwave corn dogs if left to her own devices, and number two, she couldn’t reach the bottom of the cart to unload without climbing into it. She had no problem with this, but for some reason the store employees did.As such, it was mostly Shiro shopping while Pidge ‘supervised’, at least at the beginning. The problems started in the cereal aisle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, I'm judging myself, too.  
> I speak from experience as a short person: several stores actually have carts too deep for me to reach the bottom with my feet on the floor. The solution is getting help or only using handbaskets.

“I need someone to go shopping with me,” Pidge said blandly.

Predictably, no one answered. Shiro probably would have normally, out of a sense of duty; at the moment, though, Shiro was making _blam blam_ noises at the first person shooter game every time he killed an alien.

Never one for patience, Pidge crept silently up behind the couch, easily hidden under the sound of the explosions. She paused for a moment, observing the scores and player positions. Then, she mercilessly reached out and tugged the white chunk of Shiro’s hair.

Shiro jerked, prosthetic hand clenching on his remote with a worrying _crunch_. Keith looked over, startled, and lost track of the game.

And, just as Pidge predicted, Lance took both of them out immediately.

As soon as their attention was drawn back to the tv, Keith and Shiro realized her trick.

Hunk screeched, ducking his player under a building overhang before he could be killed as well. “Lance, we said _no sniping!_ Sniper no sniping, sniper no sniping!”

“This isn’t Dora, dumbass, that won’t save you!”

“Pidge!” Keith hissed, to all appearances mortally offended, “how _could_ you? I was going to win this time!”

“Shut up, Mullet, you were not!” Lance retorted, raiding Keith and Shiro’s characters for dropped items.

Shiro simply looked down at his mangled controller in frustration, half-heartedly trying fit the broken casing back together.

“Dude,” Hunk said, peering briefly across Keith at Shiro, “you really did a number on that thing, geeze.” At Shiro’s apologetic eyebrow scrunch he shook his head, backpeddling, “Not that Pidge and I can’t fix it, no biggie!”

That brought the focus back around to Pidge, standing there watching the chaos like a smug cat knocking knick-knacks off the shelves. “ _So_ , who wants to go shopping with me?”

“Ooh,” Lance said, pausing the game and perking up. “Me, definitely me! Can we hit Sephora?”

“Grocery shopping, Lance. For food.”

“Oh. Yeeeeeah, I’m out then.”

Hunk squinted at Pidge, confused. “I went grocery shopping, like, two days ago?”

“Yeah, but _some people_ ate all the sandwich supplies. And we’re out of soda again.”

“Who ate all the ham already?” Keith demanded.

Lance raised a hand, shameless. “Me. It was delicious.”

“Of course,” Keith muttered, crossing his arms.

“Focus, guys,” Shiro cut in. “Regardless of who ate it, clearly we need more.”

“Agreed,” Hunk said easily. “But I already did my duty this week, so I’m out.”

“Fair enough,” Pidge said. “So. Are you three drawing straws or playing rock paper scissors?”

As usual, it was rock paper scissors. As usual, Shiro lost.

The man had a killer poker face, but whether he used his left hand or his right, his reaction time on hand-shapes was too shoddy--which meant he always used paper, which everyone _knew_.

Keith and Lance both threw down scissors and high-fived.

“Have fun, space dad,” Hunk called out, grinning.

Shiro rolled his eyes, grabbing his vest from the overflowing coat rack--the closet would flood feather boas if he opened it for his jacket--and searching for his wallet. “Lance?”

Blindly, Lance tossed over Shiro’s wallet, back to playing against Hunk. Pidge grabbed it mid-air before Shiro could, unfolding his string of cat pictures.

“Uh, Pidge? I need that to drive.”

Pidge waved a hand, studying one she hadn’t seen before. “You’re fine as long as it’s in the car with you, man.”

“I…” Shiro shrugged, helpless. “C’mon, then.”

***

Pidge wasn’t allowed to go shopping by herself for two reasons: number one, she’d live off sandwiches and microwave corn dogs if left to her own devices, and number two, she couldn’t reach the bottom of the cart to unload without climbing into it. She had no problem with this, but for some reason the store employees did.

As such, it was mostly Shiro shopping while Pidge ‘supervised’, at least at the beginning. The problems started in the cereal aisle.

“Okay, Mini Wheats or Fruit Loops?”

Pidge looked at Shiro, appalled. “Um, neither? Reese’s Puffs, man.”

“Wait, you seriously eat those?”

“ _Yes._ They’re great,” she insisted. As Shiro stared in concerned disgust Pidge grabbed a gigantic family-size box.

“No, no way. If we’re getting something weird, we’re at least getting Cookie Crisp,” Shiro argued.

Pidge hovered hers over the cart, unswayed.

He pulled the cart out from under the cereal, backing away. “Nuh uh.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not paying for that stuff!” Shiro denied, dodging her again. “We’re getting Cookie Crisp, case closed.”

Pidge feinted to the left and managed to slam-dunk her choice into the basket with a needlessly dramatic jump.

Shiro had no clue why he didn’t just remove the cereal, or even add his own to get both.

It would’ve saved them a lot of trouble down the line.

***

By unspoken agreement, the rules were thus: whoever got their version (flavor or brand) of something in the cart first won.

Shiro would argue that items shouldn’t be removed once they were put in; Shiro would only argue this because, unable to compete with Shiro’s height for certain items, Pidge resorted to sneaking his stuff out behind his back.

Pidge would argue that this tactic--”Cheating, Pidge, it’s called cheating!”--was a perfectly reasonable attempt to level the playing field because certain _giants_ had _unfair genetic advantages_.

The store employees would argue that cart racing through the aisles and climbing the shelves were both against store policy.

***

After all the racing and the back-tracking and the sabotage, Pidge and Shiro ended up at check out two hours later with an overflowing cart of stuff they really didn’t need.

Pidge stared at the rising price as items were scanned, wincing. “Keith is gonna kill us.”

“Forget Keith, _Allura_ is gonna kill us.”

“Nah,” Pidge dismissed, “Allura likes most of this crap. Keith is the one with the carefully balanced budget we just screwed over.”

“Oh. True. Fuck.” Shiro scrubbed his hands over his face, carefully avoiding his eyeliner but messing up his left eyebrow.

“Did space dad just _curse_?” Pidge gasped, using every ounce of drama in her body.

Shiro gave her a _look_. “Pidge. I’ve known you since I was thirteen. I’ve cursed in front of you before.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” she sniffed, pushing her glasses up. “You have to set a good example for the children.”

“You’re nineteen,” Shiro deadpanned.

“Exactly, Shiro, _exactly_.”

“I give up.”

"Uh,” the poor overwhelmed cashier broke in, actually raising their hand, “is someone gonna pay for all of this?”

“Yeah, sure,” Pidge said, handing over Shiro’s credit card.

“Where did you--! Shit. You never gave it back.”

“Nope.” Pidge popped the P, hopping up on the cart as she gave it a push toward the exit.

“Pidge! Pidge? Come back!” Shiro collected his card and the receipt, deliberately avoiding the total.

_“Excuse me, who knocked over the shelves in aisle seventeen?”_ crackled through the speakers, and Shiro blanched.

“Pidge, wait up!”

***

“Y’know, this is a really good get-away car.”

Shiro hung on to the oh-shit bar for dear life as Pidge cut another corner.

“It’s an SUV, Pidge, and we’re not on the run from the law so _please_ slow down!”

“Oh come on, you drive like this all the time.”

“I’ve been driving longer than you have! I can drive like seven different things, including fighter planes! You can hardly reach the ped-- _PIDGE_!”

Pidge groaned in exasperation, cutting off another car and avoiding an accident by inches. “Okay, most of the time you drive the world’s smallest moped, shhhh. This car deserves better than to be driven like a grandma’s behind the wheel.”

“I do _not_ drive like a grandma,” Shiro protested. “You just said I drive too fast!”

“Not the point,” Pidge sputtered.

“You mean you _had_ a point?”

“Rude.”

“It’s not rude if it’s true, isn’t that your motto?”

“I only like it when it’s not turned against me. And to think I trusted you, space dad.”

“I, for one, will never trust you again. Don’t think I didn’t see you putting my stuff back on the shelves, Katie.”

“All’s fair in love and war, Shiro,” she said cheerfully.

“I’ve seen both and this is neither.”

“True. Y’know what it  _was_? Fun.”

Pidge pulled up in front of the Castle, parking the SUV flawlessly in complete opposite of the whole drive back.

Shiro blinked over from the passenger seat, still holding on. “Fun?”

“Fun,” she confirmed, grinning.

After a moment Shiro cracked, laughing breathlessly. “I guess it was, yeah.”

They climbed out of the car and stared at the large trunk, full to the brim of unnecessary stuff. “Wanna make the guys take this stuff in?”

“Sure,” Shiro agreed easily, “but you get to give Keith the receipt.”

“Fuck,” Pidge breathed.

“Language, Pidgeon.”

“Oh shove it, space dad.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shiro really has no problem his left-hand reaction time. He's luring everyone into a false sense of security. When he REALLY wants to get into/out of something, he's gonna whip out rock and everyone will have chosen scissors and he will be FREE. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on tumblr, I'm lonely.  
> https://sinkingcanoe.tumblr.com


End file.
